


Midtown Conspiracies

by TheHand



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHand/pseuds/TheHand
Summary: MJ and Mia are on the case to answer the question, are ghosts real? Did a robot assassinate the president? Was Avril Lavigne replaced by an LMD? How many times can they sneak away from a school trip to wander abandoned buildings?





	1. M&M Productions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSolarSurfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSolarSurfer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rebel Columbia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037795) by [TheSolarSurfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSolarSurfer/pseuds/TheSolarSurfer). 

MJ faces the camera, her hair pulled back in a ponytail as she fixes the camera was stoic stare.

“Hello and welcome to another edition of Midtown Conspiracies: True Crime. Today, we investigate the 1963 assassination of President John F. Kennedy, a mystery that is supposedly solved- “MJ whips her face around to face another camera, this one making a close up “-or is it?”

MJ’s ponytail, following the Laws of Physics, lightly thwaps Mia in the face. The tall blonde girl blinks twice before shifting towards her co-host “Yes.”

MJ ignored her as always. “Let’s get into it.”

Mia kept a dead-eyed stare towards the camera while MJ went through the uncontested facts of the case.

“Another theory is that Lee Harvey Oswald was acting under the orders of Russia. However, he wouldn’t be a smart option for the Russians to use since he would immediately cast suspicion on him, due to his well know Russian ties.”

Mia cracked a smirk before donning an overexaggerated Russian accent “Vhy vould ve hire Osvald vhen he clearly likes us?”

MJ sticks her tongue out before jumping onto her next theory: the second shooter “There’s even supposedly footage of the JFK assassination from an angle different than the Zapruder film. This alternate footage reportedly shows a now infamous grassy knoll in the background. People who have seen the footage claim to see anything from puffs of gun smoke or a second shooter on the grassy knoll. However, this footage has supposedly gone missing.”

“The select few who have seen the lost footage and claimed to have seen the second shooter oddly describe him as metallic covered. This leads me to think that if there was a larger conspiracy, whoever orchestrated the plan had access to,” MJ pauses for dramatic effect, before declaring, “advanced android technology!”

Mia makes the mistake of snorting, drawing MJ’s attention.

“What, you’ve got something to say?”

The blonde attempts to keep a straight face before falling into guffaws. 

* * *

Mia and MJ crept down a decrepit hallway, the only sounds are the slapping of MJ’s shoes and crickets faintly chirping in the distance. The pair stopped at a window, looking into another room. They flashed their flashlights, getting a glimpse into the surprisingly large leisure area.

Mia nodded, faux serious “I’m getting the spoopy vibes.”

The title card flashes, Midtown Conspiracies: Supernatural.

MJ’s voiceover begins “Hello and welcome to another edition of Midtown Conspiracies. This week we investigate the Robert Kelly Correctional Facility, otherwise known as The Box.”

The camera returns to Mia and MJ as they walk down another hallway before stopping at a concrete door. They glance at each other and nod.

MJ walks over to their equipment bag and unzips it, lifting out a crowbar. She turns back to Mia, who is already through the door.

MJ pulls a scowl before setting the crowbar down and turning to the camera “When she gets pulled apart by ghost Mutants, she’s gonna regret going ahead. Hey numbskull! Guess who has the map!”

A quiet “shoot” is heard in the dark. MJ bravely forges ahead into Cell Block X.

She starts her history lesson “The prison was originally built in the 1940’s and was re-christened in the 80’s for Robert Kelly, a notoriously anti-Mutant rights senator who introduced the bill to fund power-dampening research. The Box was the bill’s prototype, specifically outfitted with anti-Mutant measures including, allegedly, power-dampening collars and electric monitoring bracelets.”

Mia puts in her two cents “Well MJ, they sound like real pieces of shit!”

The lesson continues “The Box was only in operation for five years before some inmates led a mutiny, freeing not only themselves but every single prisoner incarcerated here. The ensuing federal investigation uncovered dozens of undocumented deaths, due to starvation, torture, and other human rights abuses. The guards contributed to the horror by hosting underground fight clubs, forcing mutant inmates to fight each other for privileges like bathing and exercise time.”

A sudden metallic screech is heard, coming from deeper in the prison. MJ jumps before turning to Mia, who sighs and walks straight toward the sound. MJ isn’t far behind, using Mia as a very effective human shield.

Mia comes to a halt and points her flashlight towards a swinging cell door. The two girls and the camera watch the door squeak on its hinges for a few seconds before Mia turns back to MJ with her eyebrow raised.

“Well MJ? Do we have a haunted door?”

The two girls are sitting on a dirty floor. Mia turns to camera and stage whispers “I hate this part”

MJ takes out a retro looking radio and turns it on. It starts screeching loudly and Mia winces even with her hands covering her ears. MJ begins to ask the box questions.

“Are there any spirits here with us?” _“kskshsgskksg”_

“How did you die?” _“ksksksk…fire…hot…ksksks”_

“Our names are Michelle and Mia; can you say that back to us?” _“skskskshshsh…Ven…shshsksksk…Ommmm”_

“What is your name?” _“sksks…Tater….shsksksk…tots…shsksks”_

Mia looks at MJ and starts repeating “Tater tots!” before wheezing in laughter.

* * *

The girls are back at the Conspiracy Cave, also known as the Midtown High AV club room. MJ hands Mia a stack of folders. Mia places them on the table.

MJ continues her voiceover “…We’re looking into the suspicious death of Niko Constantin, an ex-Russian spy who died on UK soil following a meeting with his former handlers.”

MJ turns to Mia “How much do you know of this case Mia?”

“Only what you had me translate. When did it happen again?”

“A few months after the Invasion, why?”

“Yeah, that’s when I was dead. Continue.”

“The morning of August 17th, Niko Constantin, a former KBG spy, infamous for criticizing President Vladmir Putin, met with Ivan Petrovitch and Boris Turgenov at the London branch of the Arena Club, a highly exclusive and secretive organization with locations all over Europe and North America. The three men were served tea and had an early lunch while discussing the current state of Russian politics.”

“What did they eat?”

“How in the world is that in any way relevant Mia?”

The blonde shrugged, “If he died after this meeting I wanna know if he had a good meal. Something scrumptious”

MJ rolled her eyes “Moving on, by 6 o’clock that evening, Constantin would be rushed to the hospital and placed in the Intensive Care Unit. He complained of chest pain and shortness of breath. The ER initially thought he was having a heart attack, but a healthy EKG proved them wrong. Constantin’s condition worsened throughout the night and was pronounced dead at 10:08 on August 18th. However,” MJ slammed her hands down on the table, “Constantin lived long enough to tell the authorities that he believed that he had been poisoned and why.”

Mia said thoughtfully, “You know, it’s kind of a bad murder method if the victim lives long enough to tell every Tom, Dick, and Harry about it.”

“Constantin would tell a tale so fantastic however, that the investigators questioned if his mental facilities were also compromised.”

“Well it can’t be worse than your theory that the Beatles were just one Mutant with the ability to clone himself.”

“The ex-spy claimed that Russia recruited children to become the perfect assassins, telling their families the girls were to be famous ballerinas. Instead, the girls were indoctrinated and taught how to kill. Later, after the collapse of the USSR, the branch of the KGB responsible for the project broke off and joined another country’s secret service-Hey Mia, do you need a tissue?”

A small stream of ruby red blood dripped down Mia’s nose, landing on the picture of Niko Constantin.

“Mia-hey, you in there?”

Mia’s attention snapped towards MJ before glancing at the rolling cameras.

“That’s a cut,” Mia stood up and walked away, ignoring MJ’s flabbergasted expression


	2. Squatch

“Hello and welcome to this week’s addition of Midtown Conspiracies Autopsy, the show where we answer your most pressing questions about the latest episode, which was the Castillo San Cristobal in San Juan, Puerto Rico.” MJ clapped her hands together before reminding the audience “all of the questions we’re answering today are from you guys, sent in through various social media sites. Mia, would you like to kick us off?”

Mia, engaged in her usual staring contest with the camera didn’t miss of beat, whipping out her phone. “This one is from @blackhawkbow: ‘like, why did you guys not shoot on location? I feel like u could have so many cool shots and collect a lot more evidence in general.’ Well random user of social media, we are high school students, doing this on a nickel and dime budget. Could I smuggle MJ and I on a plane to Puerto Rico? Yes, that’s obvious. But my felony days are done. A shadowy government organization made me pinky promise.”

MJ rolled her eyes “Let’s take it back over to Facebook for our viewers over a certain age. This one is from Mara Dwyer, who asks ‘I think all of the guards who disappeared from The Devil’s Sentry were probably just using the legend to abandon their posts and desert the army. IDK, maybe they were tired of fighting and there was a sympathetic higher officer who gave them instructions to a secret escape.’ Well Mara, if that is your real name, that would probably work for some time, BUT! Guards were reported to have gone missing for over a hundred years!”

“I mean, could have been a legacy thing. Your local union of army deserters nominates one guy to stay behind and rise in rank and help the next generation of cowards. The suckiest game of draw straws. Or ya know, your theory that The Devil’s Sentry acted as an alien abduction spot is true.”

The last part was said with heavy sarcasm.

MJ fixed the camera with an impressive stare before sticking out her nose and declaring “Truth will out, justice never dies!”

* * *

“So, what really happened to eight-year-old Peter Quill that day in Missouri? Let’s explore some theories. One, his grandfather, who claimed to have been unable to catch up to the boy after removing his distraught grandson from his mother’s hospital room, either killed Peter or abducted him and killed him later.”

Mia scrunches her nose, “I mean, you said his mom died that night, right? So why would the grandfather go through all the trouble of killing his grandson that night, in a crowded hospital? He could have claimed that Peter ran away at a less suspicious time. Plus, several dozen witnesses at the hospital backed him. Not to mention that the grandparents immediately called the police and-”

MJ sighed dramatically before gazing up at her tall co-host “Does that mean we’re officially bagging this theory? That’s it, you’re good with abandoning the least outlandish story?”

Without waiting for Mia’s response, she crumpled the thin stack of papers into a ball and threw it behind her, completely missing the mini basketball hoop that had been set up for this purpose. A score buzzer sounded.

Mia motioned for MJ to move on “You’ve got more than that, right? Lay it on us.”

“Theory number two, young Peter Quill was the victim of serial killer Cletus Kassady, who operated in the tri-state area from 1985 to 1993. Kassady is known for killing indiscriminately and would claim at his trial that he had killed upwards of 30 victims. However, the only reason police were able to arrest him was because they caught him in the middle of stabbing his latest victim. Kassady was a farmer at the time and his entire property was searched but only trophies of what he claimed where from his ‘favorite victims’ were found. Now-”

Mia spoke up, interrupting MJ’s monologue “Did he have pigs?”

MJ thrown off by the non-sequitur, blinked in confusion, since Mia usually let her take center stage during theory time. “Uh, yeah his pigs won a bunch of county fair awards a few years before he started killing.”

“Well there you go!”

“Maybe, you wanna explain that a little bit Mia?”

Mia harrumphed “Well yeah, pigs are omnivores, right? And they’re huge, requiring massive amounts of calories per day. Farmers will remove domestic piglets’ tusks to prevent the piglets from scratching one another and causing a frenzy. I mean, pigs are basically land sharks. They catch a whiff of blood and they go nuts. No remains for investigators to find. And, if Kassady wanted to kill the victims himself, he could throw the corpses in the pens and the evidence would be gone by morning.”

The camera which had been slowly moving in on Mia’s face stopped, before glancing back to a horrified MJ.

* * *

Mia and MJ step off the subway, moving safely to a bench, where they glance towards the camera. Mia, deadpan, askes “Are you ready to catch a Devil?”

MJ turned to the camera “Hello and welcome to a special edition of Midtown Conspiracies. We’re in Hell’s Kitchen for one reason: to find the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. But first, a little history lesson. The sightings of the Devil began around eight months ago. He operates mainly at night and only in Hell’s Kitchen. All the witnesses saved by him claim that he shows no enhanced abilities, except for superior fighting skill and almost clairvoyant battle acuity. Now, Mia and I- and our faceless cameraman, stop pouting Parker. Now, the _three _of us will walk the lonely streets of Hell’s Kitchen and look for the Devil. Are you re-Not again Mia.”

The camera pans out, searching for the tall blonde, who had not been there for several minutes.

“You know, if Mia gets murdered, Aunt May will blame the both of us.”

“That’s a lie, she loves me. You, on the other hand? You’re roadkill. But she makes a convenient human shield. And she’s good at opening pickle jars and reaching things on high shelves.”

MJ turns back to the camera. “Looks like instead of a Devil, we’ll be hunting Blonde Bigfoot, on this episode of Midtown Conspiracies.”

* * *

[](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/charmanderisacutie#)


	3. An Army of Bee Assassins

MJ creeps around a dark room, illuminated by a night vision camera, pointed at her face. She’s on the verge of panic, muttering “I hate this part, why do I always insist on it, this is awful.”

The title card flashes. MJ’s faceless voice monologues “Hello and welcome to Midtown Conspiracies: Supernatural. Today, we’re investigating the Aldridge Mansion, here in New York, as part of our ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?”

“The Aldridge Mansion is the city’s oldest private home and museum. One dreary morning in October 1894, early industrialist Sir Allan Aldridge awoke to find that his servants had not served his breakfast. Furious, he went to their quarters and found _all seventeen _had been stabbed to death sometime during the night. Terrified, he went to look for his three children, all of whom were unharmed. His eldest daughter, Gertrude, was covered in blood. Instead of turning her over to the authorities, Sir Aldridge decided to go full Mr. Rochester and lock Gertrude in the basement, feeding her through a slot. There, Gertrude remained until her death, though some say she never left.”

Mia stands on wooden porch, waiting for MJ to arrive. She turns to the camera “I’m taking a selfie with some demons, yo.”

MJ finally arrives, breathless “How the hell did you get here so fast? The two of you live farther away than I do!”

Mia and the camera shrug. “Maybe it’s ‘cuz you’ve got tiny little legs. You’ve gotta take double the steps.”

“Shut up Big Bird. You remembered to get the key from the night guardsman, right?”

Mia shifts uneasily “Oh yeah, totally definitely asked permission, definitely didn’t break in and turn off the alarm system myself, ha-ha”

MJ rolls her eyes, “Let’s head in, weirdo.”

The two girls are setting up camp in the main salon, a once-elegant room now aged and stuffy. MJ points out the steel door, leading to basement, covered in locks and dead bolts.

Mia points out a grandfather clock. “Did you know Sir Aldridge brought this over on the Titanic? And then forced out a couple people to make room for it on the lifeboat. Sort of a dick move.”

MJ brings out the spirit box and moves to turn it on.

“Hey, wouldn’t it be cooler if we did it in the basement?”

“Hey, wouldn’t it be cooler if you shut your piehole?”

The girls creep down the stairs to the basement. MJ turns to Mia. “If we get murdered, I’m gonna haunt your ass forever.”

“That’s not gonna happen because ghosts aren’t real.”

* * *

MJ pins five pictures to the Conspiracy Cave’s Conspiracy cork board. Half of them are in black and white. They seem to span centuries. Then, MJ takes out a red sharpie and starts circling a man’s face. The man, white and grizzled, with impressive muttonchops somehow appears in every single picture.

“Hello and welcome to another edition of Midtown Conspiracies. Today, we’re investigating the mysterious case of the Immortal Soldier. We’re going to start by going picture by picture. Our first piece of evidence is a tenth century Japanese scroll, detailing the curse of a famous samurai, called ‘Fumetsu no satsujin-te’. Now- “

“Wait, wait, wait. I thought you said that he was a white guy! Now he’s an ancient samurai named Immortal Murder Hands? C’mon MJ.”

“Shush! Let me finish before you start criticizing! Now, our next photo is dated 1863. It depicts a regiment of Canadian soldiers who fought for the Union. They voluntarily left Canada, where slavery was formally abolished in 1833, making it a popular stop on the Underground Railroad. As you can see!” MJ whips out an extendable pointer “We see this man. From enlistment records, he was called James Howlett. He would survive the war and disappear, until!” She points to another photo “1915, when a man calling himself James Logan enlists in the Canadian armed forces. Again, this man would survive. He somehow served the entire war, not requiring medical attention once and earning several awards for rescuing wounded comrades. Again, this man would disappear after the war, reappearing again in 1940, where he served under the name Logan Howlett. Most of his military career in World War II is actually classified, his only public missions being in conjunction with 107th American Infantry, better known as the Howling Commandos!” At this, MJ raised her eyebrows and shot a significant look towards Mia.

“And the other pictures?”

MJ whips back around, focusing with laser-sharp focus “1965! One James Howie Lett is one of thousands of Canadian men who enlist in the US army to fight in the Vietnam war! Again, he survives without sustaining a single injury! When the rest of his squadron is captured, he _singlehandedly_ rescues them, a feat not seen since Captain America’s debut!” Now, MJ waggling her eyebrows and attempting aggressive eye contact with her co-host.

“Alright, MJ. I just have one question” Mia looked around, winked at the camera and asked, “do the butts match?”

* * *

[](https://charmanderisacutie.tumblr.com/private/image/187411375940/tumblr_vNJn86YMYah6ehP65)

“Welcome back to another episode of Midtown Conspiracies: Autopsy, the show where we answer your questions about the latest episode. Last week’s episode was the Bewildering Wandering Swarm, where dozens of World War II platoons deployed in Europe reported being attacked by a giant cloud of bees. Now let’s get to the questions.”

Mia, who is petting a fuzzy grey kitten with huge eyes and the most perfect toe beans, takes out her phone “Looks like our first question is from @KStoppable, who asks ‘why does Mia have a black eye? Is she alright?’ Thank you for your concern @KStoppable! I was thrown into a dumpster which was already occupied.”

The screen compares Mia from the previous week to now. Somehow, the black eye has moved from her right eye to her left.

MJ rolls her eyes and reads the next question “@sourSupreme asks ‘whats the kitty’s name? SOOOOOOO CUUUTTEE! Also, maybe all those soldiers were sprayed w/ bee pheromones.’”

Mia turns to the camera, staring deep into its soul. “His name is Chewie, I’ve only had him for a week and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

* * *

“So today we’re talking about The Dyatlov Pass Incident. In 1959, a group of nine experienced hikers from Ural Polytechnical Institute were attempting to reach Otorten, a mountain in the Soviet Union. They made camp about 6 miles away from the peak. The group wouldn’t seen again until February 26th, when a search and rescue team found the first five bodies, who seemed to have died from hypothermia. Strangely, they were all barefoot or in their socks.”

“What happened to the other four?”

“Their corpses wouldn’t be found until May. Autopsies on the four would reveal major chest fractures and skull damage, despite showing no external signs of injury. Two of the hikers were missing eyes and one of them was missing her tongue.”

“Gross.”

“Now, the _government_” this word was said with disdain “declared the hikers to have died to due natural phenomena like an avalanche or hurricane. But I! Believe otherwise. Multiple independent sources report seeing strange orange spheres in the sky the night of the incident.”

“Please don’t say aliens.”

“Aliens! Abduction! Probing!”

Mia got a deadly look in her eye “You wanna know what I think? The ones who died of hypothermia were werewolves.”

The two girls engaged in a staring contest. Lightning flashed between them.


	4. Silent as the Grave

“This week on Midtown Conspiracies, we discuss the highly controversial disappearance of Natalie Wood. Get your sunglasses ready because this one is packed full of bright stars.”

Mia slides her sunglasses down, peering at the camera “I’m always ready baby.”

“On November 27th, 1981, actress Natalie Wood, her husband Robert Wagner, and her co-star Christopher Walken took the couples’ boat out for a long weekend. Wood would disappear from the boat on the night of November 28th and would never be seen again. The three were also joined by the boats’ captain, Dennis Davern. Wagner and Davern would send out at distress signal at 1:30 A.M. to report Natalie missing.”

Mia nodded “The husband did it.”

“You’re already calling it? That’s a little fast.”

“What is the husband if not the modern-day butler?”

MJ sighed, “Let’s backtrack a little. Natalie Wood was born Natalia Nikolaevna Zakharenko in the Russian city of Vladivostok in 1938. She was an orphan who trained with the Bolshoi ballet company, but she would come to America when she was 18 and take Hollywood by storm. She starred in ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ which would earn her an Oscar nomination for best supporting actress. She continued her film career and would eventually marry actor Robert Wagner, divorce him, marry British Producer Richard Gregson, divorce him, and re-marry Wagner. She claimed a fear of water from a young age, telling friends a fortune teller from her youth had predicted she would die of drowning.”

Mia furrowed her brow “What kind of fortune teller tells that to a little kid!? ‘Oh honey, maybe you’ll marry a rich man and have beautiful children’” Now, affecting a creepy old voice “’You are doomed to a watery grave! Beware the man with the green eyes and two left feet!’ Who does that to their kid?”

MJ nodded enthusiastically, “I would ask for a refund, like ‘Hey, now she needs that money for therapy!’ But back to the case. The day before Woods’ disappearance, Wagner and Wood reportedly got into an argument and Wood asked Davern to drive her back to shore, where he reports she stayed in a motel room. The next morning, he picked her up and the pair returned to the boat where the group would continue to party. They would come back to shore for dinner, where a waitress remembers their excessive drinking. After returning to the boat, Wagner recounts Wood and Wagner having another argument where he would throw a wine bottle against the wall, shattering it. Finally, they separated around 12:15 and that is the last known sighting of Natalie Wood. Wagner would wake Davern an hour later after searching the boat for Wood when she didn’t come to bed.”

“A very likely story”

“Wood was declared dead fifteen days later after the Coast Guard found the ships’ dinghy floating adrift, over ten miles from shore. However, no body was ever found.”

* * *

“Hello and welcome to a very special edition of Midtown Conspiracies. Usually, I would tell you what we’re investigating and why, but on this momentous occasion, I’m turning it over to Mia. Mia, if you will.”

Mia’s mouth twisted “Today, we’re getting hands on and digging up some dirt on a deathly serious case.”

“How many death puns are you gonna make?” “As many as it takes to kill someone. Now, two years ago I died, but not actually. So, we’re gonna play a little game called ‘What’s in the Box.’”

The two girls are walking through a pitch-black graveyard. They stop at a grave bearing Mia’s name. They grab two shovels out of their duffle bag and get to work. Fast forward twenty minutes and MJ is huffing and puffing while Mia has barely broken a sweat.

“This is what happens when you skip arm day.”

“Sh-shut uh-up. P-Parker, tap in.”

The cameraman steps into the shot, an edited mustache and beard obscuring the lower half of his face. He grabs the shovel from a panting MJ and gets to work. Another twenty minutes passes and Mia calls out to MJ. “We’ve struck oil!”

MJ grabs the camera from its tripod and runs over to the hole. She leans down, focusing on the muddy casket and hand Mia a crowbar. Mia grips it and wedges it between the sides. The box cracks open with a groan. A flashlight shines down, illuminating a small body.

MJ and the cameraman start screaming. Mia starts laughing. “C-calm down guys, look it’s made of latex.”

Mia grabs the dummy with one hand and hauls it out of the grave. The camera compares the girl and the doll she’s holding. There’s a vague resemblance, the doll sickly thin and tiny compared to Mia.

“Hey! Put your hands up!”

“Uh-oh”

The trio are sitting in a holding cell, covertly filming Mia arguing with the arresting officer.

“I’ve never seen something so disrespectful in my twenty years on the force! What, you kids decide to vandalize some poor souls’ grave for shits and giggles?! Digging up a corpse for the vines!?”

“I’m telling you, that’s my grave! If I wanna dig it up, I should be able to dig it up!”

“Just because a grave has the same name as you doesn’t mean it’s yours! When the next of kin gets here, you three are gonna have to answer to them!”

A short, exhausted looking woman strides up to the officer. “I’m here for the grave desecration.”

Mia and the cameraman lowly mumble “Hi Aunt May.”

“You two are grounded until you NEED a grave!”

* * *

“Today we’re covering the case of the Isdal woman, one of the most mysterious cold cases of all time.”

Mia starts nodding and gesticulating enthusiastically “I know this one! It’s really good guys, it’s like a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma dressed in a trench coat!”

MJ smiles, happy to share in the excitement. “It all begins November 29th, 1970 in the Isdal valley of Bergen, Norway. A father and his two young daughters happen upon the body of a woman, wedged between large rocks. Investigators called to the scene distinctly recall the scent of burned flesh. The autopsy would reveal the woman had ingested 50-70 sleeping pills and then subsequently been burned alive, as indicated by the soot in her lungs.”

Mia jumps in “Mysteriously, she was only burned on the front of her body. Her backside was untouched. All of the identifying labels on her clothing were removed. The next break in the case would come three days later, when two suitcases belonging to the woman were discovered at the Bergen Railway station. The contents of these suitcases would bewilder investigators.”

Both girls whirl around to look the camera in the eye. MJ continues “The suitcases contained wigs, makeup, nice clothing, and numerous currencies. Using this information, the police were able to trace the Isdal woman’s path through Norway and Europe. Subsequently, they realized she had checked into hotels using eight different passports, all under different names. Numerous times, the woman changed rooms after checking in.”

“However, this is where the trail went cold. No one ever came forward to claim or identify the body and no one could recall seeing her after November 23rd. Authorities suspected she may have been a spy, but all government agencies denied involvement. The death was officially ruled a suicide and the investigation closed. So, to this day, the true story of the Isdal woman remains, a conspiracy.”

“What if she was an alien?”

“MJ, no.”


	5. Mothman Can Carry Me Off Any Day

“Hello and welcome to a very special edition of Midtown Conspiracies. Today we are in scenic New Mexico, investigating the legend of La Llorona, also known as the Weeping Woman”

Two girls wave at the camera, standing in a park. The taller of the two starts to speak

“Here we are, wandering around a playground, in another state, after dark. Totally not murder-material.”

The shorter girl nudges her companions’ side “This was literally your idea, Mia. Like I had a haunted doghouse in the Bronx lined up, but you decided to suggest we go national.”

“I didn’t think I would fit.”

“Since this investigation is so special, we have also decided to include our cameraman in this endeavor. La Llorona killed her children and now seeks others in their places. So, we are now going to imitate the local fauna”

The camera points at a trio, each holding up photos of children. Mia rolls her eyes and yells “Remember La Llorona, we used to be these kids! And we’re still delicious!”

She walks over to the slide, sitting at the top, now speaking in a high-pitched voice “Oh wow it’s so much fun to sneak out after dark to play in a deserted playground!” she releases the handrails and begins to slide down but stops almost immediately, her feet already planted on the ground “Okay, not gonna lie, I remember that being a lot more fun.”

MJ starts to pump her legs on the swings, getting higher and higher “Hey, I bet I could flip the seat over!”

The cameraman proceeds to the monkey bars, a clipart mustache obscuring his face. He’s short enough that he can’t reach the ground, even on his tiptoes. He laughed as he swings back and forth, clearly enjoying himself. All of a sudden, a branch breaks loudly behind him and Peter stops dead, the blood draining out of his face.

“You guys?” he calls out, voice squeaking. He swivels his head, looking for MJ and Mia in the darkness, but cannot find them. He starts to tug on his hands, trying to get off the monkey bars, but he must be so scared that his hands have cramped up and he can’t let go. Another branch breaks behind him and he starts whimpering. His breathing speeds up and in an effort to do _something_ he starts flinging his legs, trying to run away but he’s powerless. The sounds get closer and closer and Peter screws his eyes shut until the sounds move in front of him. With a deep breath, he opens them and stares at the little armadillo, staring back at him.

Peter starts to laugh, breathlessly relieved and feeling a little stupid when a dark figure looms from behind. Hands reach out and grab Peters’ sides, yelling “Boo!”  
Peter shrieks and his hands finally release, sending him plummeting towards the ground. He takes off, still hysterically screaming. He leaves behind Mia, now bent over in laughter.

“Oh man, I haven’t seen Peter that scared since we watched Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island in first grade.”

* * *

Mia and MJ are sitting in the Conspiracy Cave, tense smiles plastered on their faces. “Hello and welcome to another edition of Midtown Conspiracies.” MJ recites “Today, we’re embarking on a new adventure with one our classmates.”

They are now sitting in a posh sunroom, gaudily decorated. Opposite them is a teenage boy, just as brightly dressed, the sides of his hair slicked back.

“So Flash, when would you say the alleged events started?”

The boy, who’d been staring intently at Mia, snaps back to MJ, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s been creepy the past couple of months, ever since we got back from France for spring break. Suddenly there’ve been strange noises coming from the attic, really bad smells coming from some of the upstairs vents, and once I woke up to a figure laying next to me, just staring.”

“Could you describe this figure?”

“I’ll do you one better! Here, I drew this picture the following morning.”

He hands bright orange construction paper to Mia, who raises an eyebrow. Flash flushes and mutters he got it from his little sister. Mia unfolds the paper and turns the drawing toward the camera.

“It’s very…creative.”

The gaunt but orange bobble-headed picture stares at the audience with bulbous eyes. The camera shakes a little as Peter starts to let out muffled laughter. Flash narrows his eyes and the shaking stops.

A few hours later, Mia and MJ walk down the stairs to an awaiting Flash. They’re covered in dust and dirt and Mia’s shirt is ripped in a few places. MJ’s hair, which had priorly been in a high ponytail is now tangled and lopsided. 

“So, did you-uh find anything?”

The duo stops and Mia’s fist clenches. She grits out “You. Have _Raccoons_.”

“Wait, what? No, come on, what about the smells?”

“Animal feces traveling through the air ducts.”

Flash runs in front of them, waving his hands in the air. “The figure! That thing I saw!”

MJ pinches the bridge of her nose “Sleep paralysis. Very common. Thanks for volunteering your house but you don’t need us. Call animal control and a sleep pathologist. Bye.”

Flash seems to deflate before the camera’s very eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I make Rebel Columbia memes on my tumblr charmanderisacutie, so check them out


End file.
